


Hey There Lonely Girl

by Alexthefangirl77



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (different modern music ahaha), F/M, Fanfiction that sucks, GOTG Action that has no action whatsoever, Have some GOTG, I Blame Tumblr, I am an awesome writer, I dont know why I use that tag maybe because its everywhere, I dont use useful tags, I should be in class oopsie, OC is terren, OC likes music too, OC needs a hug (and a shower maybe?), Oops I spilled my imagination everywhere, Peter Quill Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 20:09:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13015224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexthefangirl77/pseuds/Alexthefangirl77
Summary: Francisca Reyes just wanted to live a normal, Earth life. But abduction and forced slavery in the Ravagers factions was not part of her genius plan. Three years she spent trapped. Until she meets him.Peter Quill. He just lost two fathers in the span of hours. A few months later, after he convinces himself he's over it another problem arises. After a mission to arrest a rogue Ravagers sector who have been trading slaves and selling some pretty illegal shit, he finds her. Another terren, who has been imprisoned into slavery for years, shows up.They're not getting out of this one easy.





	Hey There Lonely Girl

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry. I've been just binging GOTG and I needed to make something. It took me a few hours to write this. So please leave kuuuuudos! The title is a song by Eddie Holman. Check it out.

Three years. Three whole goddamn years. I have been traded among five Ravager slave sectors. And I’m still being toted and lugged around like some kind of cattle. When the fuck are they going to let me out of here? I had a good life. I had a well-paying job, I had just paid off my university debts, and I was in good terms with my screwed-up family. My life was as perfect as could be, until these stupid aliens Ravager people took me from my home. I brought myself back to the moment. _Come on, Cisca, not the time for flashbacks._ The ship shook spastically, and it brought me out of my daydream. I swiped at my short hair, that kept flying into my face every time the ship churned. We must be in an atomic meteor field. The tiny cell I had grown accustomed to seemed smaller and smaller every tremor that passed through. It was furnished with the most luxurious bathware and toiletries-a bucket. My clothes were tattered and holy. It’s been a few months since I’ve taken a shower, much less washed my hands. But it wasn’t like I was eating anything, so it was temporarily okay to be unsanitary. Nonetheless, my skin itched and crawled with filth. I probably looked terrible. _Really, Cisca? You’re trapped on a slave ship and you’re worried about what you look like?_ I scorned myself silently. My stomach growled aggressively. I tried to think of the last meal I had, to no avail. Well, I had wanted to lose weight, here’s to that. Next to my cell, whimpers are heard. Probably some A’askvariian who was kidnapped for their extra appendages. They could get a lot done with six arms. Not that I’d know, I’m human. Or at least I’m pretty sure. I don’t know what they’re keeping me here for. A “terren” as they call me, has no particular traits or powers. At least, that I know of. Right about now, I’ve been hoping for some kind of unspeakable power to show up, and I can finally escape. But for now, I had to sleep. Even the turbulence can’t make me feel any less tired and muddled. I shove aside the scrap of chintzy rag they gave me and called a blanket, and I laid as much as I could with the space I was allocated. The only thing they had let me keep was my iPod shuffle. I had all my music on it, and it had lasted only so long. I had to pilfer a tiny multipower universal charger from one of the guards. It worked to keep it alive, but I had to persuade some of the Ravagers to bring me batteries for it from time to time. I clicked the small button till the light flashed a tiny green dot on my ceiling. I pressed play. _And Saints_ by _Sleigh Bells_ came on. The beating pulse came out through the paltry speakers of my earbuds. I adjusted myself till I was comfortable.   
Just about as soon as I fell asleep, the clatter of a door opening on this rusty piece of shit ship roused me from my rest. My door had opened automatically. I scrutinized the hatch, and stepped warily out from my prison. My eyes darted both ways. Since my abduction situation of 2014, paranoia was always my first reaction to anything. My senses were also sharper, from the constant having to hide my iPod from the patrol of guards that switched daily. I needed a weapon. Anything sharp or heavy and thick. All I found was a rusted iron pipe laying in the hallway. It had been leaned against the wall. I took hold of it, testing the weight in my hand like a baseball player. I brandished it in front of me, as a fencer would with with a sword. I plodded silently down the passageway. A small mirror stuck to the door at the end of the hall threw back my reflection. I was disheveled and grimy, but the look in my own eyes startled me. It was that of a wild animal, desperate, ruthless and fierce. I probably would seem insane to anyone who dared cross me. My favorite song came on, blaring through my earbuds as I tiptoed past the main cockpit. No one seemed to be here. Or anywhere on the ship, for that matter. By the time I had inspected the entire aircraft, I heard the main hatch opening. Someone was leaving. Or coming in, for all I knew. The rusted pipe in my hand grew ten pounds heavier. Shit. _They’ll find me._ I went full stealth mode, ducking behind crates of illegal or stolen goods, rolling across the floor as if I were a secret agent, all while screaming internally. I just needed to get an escape pod, and get out. I could finally leave this place. I could go back to my life. Whoosh! The sound of rockets being ignited reached my ears, and I went over to investigate. Red leather caught my eye. Ravager gear. Oh no. No. They’re looking for me. No. I can’t go back into that cell, not now, not ever again. I made a beeline for the latch on the escape pod. Halfway through my trajectory, the Ravager noticed me full-on sprinting to the door, and he blasted over to me, catching my arm. I writhed in his grasp. He was wearing a mask that covered most of his head, and his sand colored hair spilled out from under it. I struggled, and he reached up behind his ear, and the mask receded off his face. “Woah, woah there. I’m not gonna hurt you, calm down.” I at last pulled out of his death grip, scrambling away backwards on all fours. “Hey, hey. What’s your name?” He was most likely trying to ge me to talk to him, so he could earn my trust, and trap me in yet another stupid cell. No. I would not let that happen. “Oh hell no.” I blurted, raising my pipe in the blink of an eye, swinging it smack-dab in his face. Except it never hit the target.   
The pipe was wrenched from my hands by a pale man covered in crimson etchings. He was a good two and a half feet taller than me. The oxidized pipe cut my palm and left orange streaks. I gasped as blood immediately began to pool in my hand. “I am sorry.” the tall man grunted. I clasped my hand shut. My temples hurt from clenching my teeth so hard. A string of rather vulgar curses left my mouth. The one in Ravager gear whistled. “An' I thought Groot had a filthy mouth.” he muttered to the taller man to his right. “Are you okay?” he addressed my curled up figure nursing my still bloody hand. “Fuck no, I’m not okay! You just fucked up my hand! I’ll never be able to write again!” I spat at his feet, fire raging behind my eyes. I just wanted either to kill them both, or die myself. He rolled his eyes, leaning down to wipe his boot with his gloved hand. “Aw, c’mon, it’s not that bad,” he said softly. Almost sympathetically. I mentally slapped myself in the face. Ravagers don’t have sympathy. Ravagers don’t feel. He stayed crouched next to me. “I’m Peter. Peter Quill.” I scoffed in his face. That was a surprisingly normal name, compared to the weird shit I was used to out here. Like, what kind of name is Tav’ki? “Francisca. Not that it’s any of your business, Ravager.” he looked stunned after that last comment. “What?” “You’re wearing Ravager gear. You’re a Ravager. Did your buddies send you to pick me up, or what?” “We don’t-I’m not a slave trader!” “Then what are you here for? And where’s the ship’s crew?” He looked shocked. “How long have you been here, Francy?” I flinched at the sudden use of my childhood nickname. God, I haven’t heard that in so long. It felt weird coming from a stranger’s mouth. I scrunched my eyes shut, hoping when I opened them that they’d disappear. Nope. Still here. I hesitated before answering. “Three years.” An undignified noise came from him. I heard something along the lines of _wow_ and _holy shit._ “And you’re still alive.” I peered down at myself, then back at him. “Yeah.” I spat sarcastically. “And still as saucy as ever.” he stood back up, and I got a good look as his features. His eyes were green. _Really green._ He had a certain expression about him that made me want to crumble at his feet. I snorted and mumbled to myself. “I’ve already done that.” “Who are you talking to?” “Myself.” I snapped, continuing all while shaking myself off and getting up, “It gets pretty lonely, being traded from ship to ship, living with myself, ya know.” I pulled a hair from my eyes. He stared at me, and a green skinned woman all clad in black sauntered in with the confidence of an army. “Quill. The rest of the crew is locked in the cell bay.” My eyes widened. Gamora. Thanos’ adoptive daughter. She’s dangerous. I cowered behind “Quill”. She gestured towards me and I jumped at the sudden movement. She ignored me and stared straight a Peter. “Who is this?” “A slave. Found her trying to get to a pod.” A long sigh is heard. It took a second to register that it was coming from me. “I’m right here, you know.” She shot me a bone-chilling look. “What are you?” “A girl…?” I faltered. “What race?” “Um… Human?” At that, Peter veered around and raised a brow. “You’re terren?” “No. Huuuu-maaan.” I spelt it out for him, talking slowly as if to a toddler. “Well.” “Well what? What’s going on? What are you doing with the crew?” He laughed half-heartedly. “We’ve arrested them. For selling stuff on the black market.” “Are you the police?” I hadn’t known I was holding my breath until this moment. I let out a sigh of relief. “Naw. We’re the Guardians of the Galaxy.”


End file.
